


Feel the Strange Heart Beating Where It Lies, or: Leader and the Swan

by kinoface



Category: Arashi (Band), Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Breathplay, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-28
Updated: 2011-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-26 15:23:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/284825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinoface/pseuds/kinoface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jun has been watching Satoshi for a long time.</p><p>(For specific details about the warning/tags, see the end notes.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feel the Strange Heart Beating Where It Lies, or: Leader and the Swan

**Author's Note:**

> Written for rainbowfilling, prompt "gone fishin'"; beta by phrenk who is fabulous and a trooper. I love you phrenk!!
> 
> Title from Yeats's "Leda and the Swan"; you can read the poem [here](http://www.online-literature.com/yeats/865/), read an analysis of said poem [here](http://www.sparknotes.com/poetry/yeats/section7.rhtml), or read about the myth [here](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leda_and_the_Swan). I'M SO SORRY.
> 
>   **For specific details about the warning/tags, see the end notes.**

It's just now approaching twilight, but the spot Satoshi has picked is already dark, shaded thickly by sweet-smelling olive trees. There are colorful fish swimming in the lake and a lone swan a few meters out, floating peacefully on the surface. Satoshi likes this spot because it's one of the few places where he's allowed to roam freely; usually the king is very protective of him, but because this part of the lake is so close to the palace, every now and then Satoshi manages to sneak off to fish for a few hours without the company of the guards.

This is one of those times. He carries his fishing pole as he walks out to his favorite spot on the riverbank, the bottom of the pole trailing in the dirt behind him. The loose folds of his yukata rustle comfortably around his legs as he settles in and prepares his bait, and out on the water, the swan angles its long neck, turning its face in his direction. For a moment it almost feels as if the creature is looking at him. He brushes the feeling off and goes back to setting up his fishing pole.

Time passes, and the clearing grows darker. The fish seem unsettled tonight, darting haphazardly to and fro. He hasn't caught any yet, but he's content just to be out here and hopeful still that something good will come his way.

The next time he looks up, the swan is much closer. Its white body stands out starkly in the dim light, and it's near enough now that Satoshi can make out its features: there are thick black markings around its eyes, and its beak is a deep red. It's a beautiful creature, lithe and graceful, but there's something powerful about it, too.

He keeps fishing, but with the swan glowing so brightly in the darkness, it's hard to ignore the way it's moving ever closer. It floats its way over to the edge of the water, and when it starts to rise onto the riverbank, Satoshi turns to look. At first he thinks what he's seeing is a trick of the light — he blinks, and blinks again, and rubs his eyes — but no, it's real: the swan is morphing into a person right before Satoshi's eyes. Its snowy feathers give way to smooth, creamy skin, and its neck shrinks down as the rest of its body stretches out: wings turn into arms, webbed feet into legs. It's taller now than Satoshi, with broad shoulders that taper down into a narrow waist and flared hips.

Through his haze of surprise, Satoshi realizes that the swan is moving closer now, walking towards him on its new, leanly muscled legs. He stumbles back, the fishing pole slipping from his hand and into the water. He stutters out, "What are you?"

Its mouth moves, just like a normal person's would, and it speaks in normal, human language, its voice low and sultry. "I'm just a swan," it says, as if this is the simplest, most obvious fact.

"But... you..."

"You saw me before, didn't you?" it asks, patient. "What did you see?"

In a daze, Satoshi replies, "A swan."

The swan's mouth turns up in a smile. "Exactly."

Satoshi can't argue. He can barely think.

The swan moves closer still, close enough now for him to see that its face is handsome, strong; the black markings around its eyes have translated into thick, trim eyebrows, and its red beak has become a full, red mouth framed by two beauty marks on the left side.

It moves closer still, kneeling and leaning in — Satoshi is frozen — until he can see the violet flecks in its brown eyes.

It moves closer still, so close that it becomes unfocused in Satoshi's vision. He closes his eyes against the blur, and he feels the swan move in front of him, feels its hand cup the back of his neck, the light touch of its entirely human fingertips making him shiver. When the swan speaks again, Satoshi feels its lips, just a breath away, brush his.

"I've been watching you a long time."

Satoshi shivers again and turns away, towards the palace. He feels powerless and drawn to this — creature — this swan, and his head feels light, foggy. It's all he can do to murmur a quiet protest: "But—"

"The king?" The swan's lips brush against his cheek and move lower, down to his throat. "What about him?"

But the fingers tighten in his hair before he can answer, pulling his head back. The sudden jolt of unexpected pain thrills him. "Ah—"

The swan presses him down against the earth and pushes the folds of his yukata aside, and when he tries to sit up, the hand in his hair moves to press against his throat, pinning him. He chokes and inches back until he can breathe again, his shoulders flat against the ground. The swan maneuvers itself between his legs, its free hand pushing his thighs apart and reaching between them. He has one moment of clarity, achingly slow, when he realizes what's going to happen — he stutters out, "Wait" — and then the swan presses two fingers into him with no preamble. Its fingers are warm and somehow slick, but he hadn't been expecting the touch, and the feeling of being stretched so suddenly is overwhelming. He shudders hard when the swan's fingers, long like the rest of its body, start to move inside of him, but his limbs feel heavy and far away, beyond his control; he can feel with perfect lucidity everything that is happening to him, but he feels powerless to move, to speak, to look anywhere but at the swan as it leans over him, its dark violet-specked eyes similarly intent upon him.

The swan works him from the inside out, deliberately pressing against the spot inside of him that makes him arch up, his throat pressed against its hand. It works him until he's hard and panting, until the pain has subsided and his body has adjusted to take three of its fingers. And then the swan fucks him.

Its cock is slick just like its fingers, but three fingers couldn't have prepared Satoshi for this. The swan is rough with him, its hips snapping and rolling feverishly against his, one hand holding his throat tight while the other pinches, tweaks, scrapes against him. His body responds to every push, every pull; he moans and hitches his legs up around the swan's slim waist and pushes back as much as he can into its thrusts, and it presses down against his throat and growls, "Does the king do this for you? Does he know you like it this way?"

Satoshi chokes and couldn't answer even if he wanted to. He comes hard, his voice caught in his throat by the swan's hand still pressed there.

He is aware, peripherally, of the swan continuing to thrust into him, its movements building to a crescendo that finally breaks like a wave, wet inside of him and on the ground beneath his thighs where it seeps and pools. The swan leans over him and whispers something he only barely registers: _again._

He feels the swan pull away, recede into the darkness. It might still be there, or it might have disappeared — through the fog in his mind, Satoshi can't be sure. He reaches out for nothing, and he fades.

When he comes to, the clearing is completely dark around him, his yukata is neatly in place over his body, and there's a guard shaking him awake. "We've told you before not to fall asleep out here, Highness," the guard sighs when Satoshi finally stirs. "Who knows what might happen to you."

"I didn't," Satoshi starts — his head still feels fuzzy — "The swan —"

The guard hauls him onto his feet, his hands a solid weight around his arm, and stares. "What?"

Satoshi stares back, blinking. He turns to scan the lake, but there's no sign of a swan, swan-shaped or otherwise. His fishing pole, too, is missing, no doubt dropped into the lake somewhere. It's too dark to look for it now, he thinks as the guard leads him out of the clearing, back towards the palace. His body hurts, sore in new places and in familiar ones.

Maybe tomorrow, when it's light again, he'll come out to look for his fishing pole.

Maybe he'll even catch some fish.

**Author's Note:**

> This note is here for readers who would like more specific information about the tags before they decide whether or not to read further.
> 
> About the Dubious Consent and other tags: In this fic (which is based heavily on the myth of Zeus raping Leda), Jun is a god who approaches Ohno, pins him down by his throat, and has sex with him. Because of Jun's magic influence, Ohno feels as if he can't control his own body, does not protest, and ends up coming, but at no point does he consent.
> 
>  
> 
>  **kino:** obvsly this one is Jun http://wallpapers.free-review.net/wallpapers/23/Windows_7_-_Swan.jpg  
>  **elfie:** ilu so much XD  
>  **kino:** "there are thick black markings around its eyes, and its beak is a deep red. it's a beautiful creature, lithe and graceful -- but there's something powerful about it, too. also it's got this rainbow-colored glow around it, so, that's sort of weird."  
>  **elfie:** omg
> 
>  
> 
> SERIOUSLY PHRENK, THANK YOU, A MILLION HEARTS


End file.
